A Question And A Photograph
by totemo
Summary: Ron has one question to determine his future, and one photograph reminds him of his past. RonHermione oneshot.


Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or what have you. Darn it…

A/N: Just a little one-shot. I only did this last night, actually, so forgive any mistakes. Second drafts are for scaredy-cats… ahem. Anyways, please review! It fills my heart with joy, and gives me a sense of purpose. In case you're wondering, more Four Days on the way. That'll be a short story too, just not a one-shot. Ah, I love my cute little romance one-shots though… hopefully a few more on the way, too!

Ron paced across the room, hands in his pockets, head down. He was enjoying the simplicity of it. One foot, then the next- that was all there was to it. Simple. Unless he tripped, of course, but he'd managed this for an hour so far, so what was the likelihood?

"Ron!" called a very familiar voice. He tripped, straightened and removed his hands from his pockets.

"Um, yes? I'm- I'm in the dining room," he replied.

Hermione swept into the room, and Ron was struck anew by how utterly beautiful she was. She stood there, effortlessly graceful, one hand resting lightly on the door frame, the other gripping a small turquoise clutch. Her intelligent eyes alighted on Ron, and her rosebud mouth broke into a happy smile.

"Come on," she said, jovially, "We're going to be late- again. We're getting something of a reputation!"

He walked over to her, placing his hands on her waist, and countered, "It doesn't _really_ matter, does it? You can use that female excuse; you know, that 'fashionably late' one, right? You look fantastic enough to pull it off as well." She blushed, and he continued, "You've done that thing with your hair again, where you make it all- all shiny. And that dress looks so good on you that it seems almost not so ridiculously expensive as I remember."

Hermione laughed, joking, "What, _this_ old thing?" running a hand over the figure-hugging azure gown. Ron's ears went pink, and he mumbled something.

"Pardon?" Hermione enquired, leaning forwards a little.

"You're just- you're just missing a bit of jewellery," Ron repeated, about a quarter of a decibel louder.

Hermione's eyes widened, and a small sound came from her mouth, along the lines of "oh," only rather less dignified.

Ron pulled a tiny blue box from the pocket of his suit, and held it out before him, hesitantly. With a trembling hand, he opened it, revealing a delicate band of white gold, inset with three perfect diamonds.

"Oh," exclaimed Hermione, more coherently.

Ron's whole face was scarlet now, but he managed to mumble, "Hermione, I- I know this isn't exactly a romantic setting, and I think I've messed the whole thing up already, but- well what I'm trying to say is… is…I guess this is a pretty important date for us, for everyone, really, anyway, and I wanted to make it even more, um, important. So basically, would you… would you like to marry me, Hermione Granger?"

There was a moment of utter silence, filled for Ron with only the unbearably loud noise of his pulse, which seemed for some reason to be somewhere in his throat at that moment. Then, Hermione squealed and threw her arms around Ron's neck.

"Oh, of course I would, of course! Goodness me, you're such an _idiot_ I barely know what to do with you, but yes, I will marry you, I will!"

Ron drew one long, shuddering breath- he gave the impression of not having breathed for something like the past hour, or possibly day-and began to laugh, gripping Hermione as hard as she was him.

"Obviously, though, I will regale people endlessly with the story of your typically inept proposal. I mean, that was really, truly terrible, you know that, don't you?"

"I know, I'm a complete idiot, but you said yes anyway!" he laughed into her shoulder, before pulling back and taking her hand in his own, which was still violently shaking. He carefully took out the ring and slid it onto her finger, privately hoping that he had the right one. Judging by her huge smile and kiss, he had.

The sound of a car-horn beeping outside broke them apart. Ron groaned, "That'll be Fred, George or Ginny, I suppose, won't it? Well, you're telling them. No way am I voluntarily speaking again until I've stopped shaking like a little girl."

Hermione laughed once more, kissed him again, and rushed to the front door. Judging by the immediate squeal and cry of, "He did it! He actually did it!" it was Ginny.

Ron paused a moment before following Hermione. He looked at the small, framed photograph in the middle of the mantelpiece. It was of Harry, an old picture, taken when they were still in school, and Harry still had laughter left in his eyes.

"Well, mate," Ron murmured, a small smile playing on his lips, "I've done it. It's been hard without you, unimaginably hard- I still haven't entirely forgiven you for being such a hero, you know- but I think I'll be okay now. I will."

He put his hands back in his pockets, and walked into the hall where his fiancée and sister were waiting, pulling the door closed behind him.


End file.
